Loose Ends
by can-it-fly
Summary: On hold till I finish another story. / Maddy made me post this. Basically, fourth Winchester kid. (Because John's escapades haven't created enough canon kids.)
1. Chapter 1

She woke up Tuesday morning to a nightmare, of unbelievable pain in her arms. She pushed them into the blanket as if to smother the fire she felt burning; and in her mind, she smelled burning flesh, and tasted it too.

The nightmare ended when her alarm clock went off.

She opened her eyes and remembered where she was: Denver, Colorado. She was kneeling, hunched over, on her bed. The morning sun was cast over the floor and barely reached the bed. Her two posters, one the map of a fantasy world, the other a concert poster from college, hung like monoliths on the wall behind her.

She looked down at her hands and unclenched them. She only dreamt that the scars were burning again; they hadn't truly hurt for years.

The sound of the alarm filtered through her thoughts, and she sat up, stared at it.

Colorado. Not Wyoming, not North Dakota, not Michigan.

Colorado. Denver, Colorado.

Right.

She turned off her alarm and walked into the bathroom. She had more than an hour until work.

* * *

><p>She stood in line at the café. Most days she just made herself tea or coffee, but on nightmare days she didn't bother. On nightmare days she couldn't be around anything hot.<p>

She stepped up to order. "A medium strawberry–banana smoothie and a croissant."

"That'll be $5.68."

She grimaced at the cost but paid with cash. She sat down to wait for the drink, but something didn't feel right.

_It's just the nightmare_, she told herself. _It's screwing with you._ An employee called out, "Strawberry smoothie, medium!" She collected her drink and walked out of the café quickly.

The woman who had stood two people behind her in line walked out the door five seconds later, without her drink.

The same woman was on the bus to work.

* * *

><p>She got off the bus five stops before her own, at the nearest busy intersection. She zigzagged through the streets of houses and came out a block from her office building.<p>

A different woman stood on the street corner opposite her.

She took a picture of the second woman before she disappeared, and compared the two on her phone. It took her two minutes to recognize them.

She was so screwed.

* * *

><p>That night she worked late and took the last bus home. She changed into a casually professional dress – one of the only two nice outfits she had – and looked up the nicest bar in town.<p>

Sure enough, they were there.

She stayed at the bar and drank a beer alone, and ignored the two men who tried to hit on her. She quietly watched a man and a woman flirt, the one half–drunk, the other hiding her sobriety. When the man got up to get another drink, the woman's sociable persona dropped: she scowled at any man nearby and checked her watch constantly.

They left together soon after that. Neither noticed the young woman who tailed them back to her apartment.

* * *

><p>Wednesday morning she didn't bother showing up for work. Instead, she packed her belongings into her trunk and her plastic boxes and began to load them into her car when the cell phone rang.<p>

"Hello? Hello?" the man on the other end asked. She sighed.

"Let me guess – this is your phone," she said. "I realized this morning that I picked up the wrong cell at the bar last night. Do you have my phone?"

"Well – yes, I suppose I do. How–"

"I'll meet you at the bar in an hour. Does that sound good?"

The man, flustered, agreed.

She finished packing but left the car unloaded.

* * *

><p>He stood shivering outside the bar, which was closed in the morning. She drove past the bar, saw him and parked three blocks away. He didn't recognize her when she walked up.<p>

"You have my phone?" she asked. He spun around and fumbled the phone in his hands.

"Yeah, here it is."

"Good, thanks." They traded phones. The man checked his, and turned to go.

"Hold on," she said. He turned back. "You hooked up with a woman yesterday night."

The man gave her a none–of–your–business look.

"You're a businessman, right? I bet you said you were a CEO or something. Best sex you've had in a while. But she hasn't followed up with you and you love your wife. I can see the ring. You took it off last night."

"What are you–"

"You got into town yesterday, based on the ticket stub in your coat pocket last night. You're here on business, for a couple days, maybe a week, but you are going to leave today. Now. Get out of town and don't come back for at least a couple weeks."

The man stuttered, at a loss for words.

"That woman is going to kill you tomorrow night," she said flatly. A white lie, but necessary.

"_What_?"

"You heard me." She stepped towards the man; he stepped back. Even though she was the shorter one, she felt like she towered over him. "She will kill you."

"I'll call the police!"

"They can't help you. You will die. She will kill you. You're going to get sick, break your arm, _whatever_, and you go back home to your wife. That's the only way you come out of this alive."

"Who – who are you?! How do you know?"

"I know her," she lied again. "I know what she does. She picks up men in bars, sleeps with them and then kills them days later. She has done it before. She _will_ kill you."

"I – I don't believe you!" _Trying to be brave_, she thought. _Stupid. Men are such idiots_.

She shouldn't think that.

She slammed the man into the wall and leaned in close. "You listen to me," she hissed. "You're leaving this town today or you're leaving in a body bag. Do not question me."

The man stared at her.

"So you're going to get sick or get in an accident. _I don't care what_. I'll break your arm myself if I have to. I couldn't stop the last murders but I can stop yours. Do you understand me?"

She felt the anger bubble up. Kill him, kill the men in the bar, kill them all. _Stop, stop it_, she told herself.

They stood there for a long moment.

The man nodded. She took her arms away from where they pinned him, and he leaned on the wall for support. He grasped at one more straw:

"How sure are you that it's her?"

She moved quickly. He scrambled backward and fell on the ground as she advanced.

"I will know if you don't leave."

And with one last cold, angry look, she turned around and walked away. Anything she could do to reduce the body count.

She pulled a slip of paper out of her jacket and folded it open. The phone numbers, the ones she memorized long ago, had faded with time and folding but they were still legible. The name written underneath them was also visible. She knew it was time.

She got into her car and started the engine for the heat. She took off her gloves and dialed a number on her phone, one she'd only dialed once before.

"Hello? Garth? This is Maria. You probably don't remember me, but I'm – yes, yes. That's me." She laughed. "Anyway, I need the number of a hunter. I've got a problem. No, I need this one guy specifically. Yeah, the name's Dean Winchester." She paused and listened to Garth's reply. "Okay, I got it. And they're on a job? Dalhart, Texas. Thanks, Garth, I owe you."

She hung up and pulled up the Maps application on her phone. 347 miles.

She checked her watch. She could make it by nightfall if she hurried.


	2. Chapter 2

Two men stumbled into their motel room after sunset, one covered in mud. "Next time," one of them said, "you'll be the bait."

The other man laughed and collapsed on his bed. "Sure. And next time you can fight the monster. I think I broke something with that last werewolf."

The first man flipped the light switch.

Both men drew their guns.

"I'm unarmed," Maria said. "Well," she amended, and pointed at the bedside table piled high with knives and a gun, "all my weapons are there." She sat on the other side of the second bed, her arms raised in surrender. The men did not put down their guns.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" the second man demanded.

"I'm looking for Dean Winchester."

"_Who are you_?" he repeated. Maria rolled her eyes.

"My name is Maria. I have a case for Dean Winchester."

"What case?" the first man asked.

"Amazons," she replied, "and I'm only giving it to Dean Winchester."

The men looked at each other, and lowered their guns. "I'm Sam Winchester," said the second man, "and this is Castiel."

"Neither of you is Dean? But I thought – dammit, Garth," she muttered.

"_Garth_?"

"Yes, he told me Dean was here. Instead I get his little brother and a fallen angel. Great." She sighed and stood up.

"Give the case to us, then," Castiel said.

"No, I can't." She collected her knives and shoved the gun into its holster. "Look, someone told me to go to him – and only him – if I ever got in trouble. They gave me a message to give to him."

"What's the message?"

Maria held up a piece of paper. "It's on here. My number's on the back."

She walked out of the room.

* * *

><p>"You said her name was Maria?" Dean asked.<p>

"Yeah," Sam replied. They sat around the map table in the Men of Letter's bunker.

"And the message?"

"Just a phone number. I haven't called it."

"She said she had a case?"

"Yes, Amazons." said Cas. "She didn't elaborate."

"Well then, I'll bite. What's the number?"

* * *

><p>Her phone rang after she passed Fort Collins, Colorado. She didn't recognize the number.<p>

"Hello?"

"You said Amazons?" the man on the other end said.

She hesitated. "Dean Winchester?"

"Yes."

"All right, then. I heard you had a run-in with a tribe a few years ago during the last breeding season. They're at it again, this time in Denver."

"Your tribe?"

She sighed. "Yes, my old tribe. They're in Colorado now, for two weeks.

"That's great, but we have other jobs. How is this an emergency?"

"Well, for one, they found me in Denver. I ran away nine years ago and now that they've found me, they can track me, and trust me when I say that you do not want Amazons on your tail. Second, I can destroy the tribe right now, but I need your help to do it. I know you like the Amazons as little as I do. Will you help?"

"I'm game. Where are you?"

"Their base is in Wyoming, up near Yellowstone National Park, but I'm spending the night in Casper. Look for the third motel in the address book. Text me when you get there. I'll try to get an extra bed or a couch."

She hung up the phone.

* * *

><p>The knock at the door woke her the next afternoon. She rolled out of bed, pulled on a sweatshirt and looked through the peephole.<p>

Dean knocked again. "You better be-"

Maria opened the door. "You're early. You woke me up. Congratulations." She swung the door wide open. "Give me couple minutes to get awake. Make yourselves at home."

Sam dumped his duffel bag on the first bed. "You want me to make some coffee?" he asked.

"If you want to," she called, and went to the bathroom.

When she got out of the shower, she found wardings and devils traps on the windows and guns laid out on the table. "This is how you make yourselves at home?" she asked.

"Well, Miss Mysterious reappears," Sam said. "And yes. We're warded against tracking but you aren't, so we're taking every precaution"

"Paranoid," observed Maria.

"Well, we have to be," said Castiel. "The last time we didn't ward our room, we were ambushed. We almost didn't get out alive."

"Yeah, I've heard that happens to you all a lot."

"Part of the job," Dean said.

Maria nodded and poured herself a glass of water. "Well, this job won't be much safer than your usual gigs, but it has a good payout."

"We don't work for the money," Sam interjected.

Maria rolled her eyes. "I'm not talking about money. The Amazons have an impressive collection of knowledge on gods, monsters and everything in between. I haven't found half of their information anywhere else. You all are known for collecting material like that."

" 'We all' like hunters, or like us?" Dean asked, motioning to his brother and Cas.

"Both." Maria sat down on the free bed. "Winchesters are famous among hunters. Strong witches, leviathans, angels – everybody knows to contact you if there's something extra-powerful. But I guess coming back from the dead enough times will impress anybody."

"Amazons," prompted Dean.

"Right. You all know how a tribe functions?"

"Yeah. They stay in one place for a few years, then move on," Sam said. "Nice and simple, right?"

_Men don't know anything_. "Uh, no. Each tribe has a base camp, where they train their newest warriors. After a few years, each Amazon goes on her own and blends into society – gets a job, rents an apartment, etcetera. And they form a network in their territory. When the time comes, they'll mate. The new daughters go to the base camp, and the Amazons move on if they have to."

"And you left?" Sam asked.

"Yes. I escaped after a year and put myself into the foster system."

"And your dad-"

"He was a hunter. He told me to contact you if I got into trouble, but when I called it was disconnected. I got myself out of trouble on my own, and I've kept myself out of trouble ever since."

Dean asked, "And the other number? The one on here?" He waved the piece of paper.

Maria hesitated. "He said he'd left a message for you there. If you listened to it you'd help me out."

She looked up at the three men who stood around her, and waited for one of them to speak. "Well? Are you?" she prompted.

Dean and Sam glanced at each other, and then Dean looked at Castiel. She watched the two men stare at each other. The phrase _no homo_ popped into her mind.

"Yes," said Dean roughly, "We'll help you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Apologies on the late update; I got busy with college and yatah yatah yatah it'll update next week on time. Also: Spanish text translated at the bottom of the page.**

* * *

><p>Maria stared at the road ahead. She squeezed the steering wheel, took breaths, and finally shoved a CD into the radio player, all to distract her from the burning, pulsing pain in her wrist. They were tracking her.<p>

"Can we turn the music down?" Sam shouted.

"What?" she yelled back.

Sam switched the radio off. "It's too loud."

Sure it was.

"You were pretty, uh, laconic back at the motel," said Sam. "It'd help if we had some background."

She glanced at the hunter. Men always wanted to know everything, always thought they could pry. "Background? Born Amazon, ran away, foster care, college, got found out. What else is there?" She forced a laugh, and then grimaced when the brand pulsed with heat again. _Stupid mark, stupid men. Stupid everything, just stupid._

"Uh, I dunno, just…" he trailed off. "All right, your father. We knew him, he was a good hunter."

"He's dead?" asked Maria.

"Yeah, he died a long time ago. What happened with him? I thought it was a ritual of sorts, Amazons kill their fathers. I mean, that's what we, uh, were told."

"Emma," she said. "I heard about that. I'm from a different tribe but yeah, that's the ritual. My dad – well I guess hunter blood makes you kinda a rebel. I found my dad, beat him up pretty good, and I dunno, I didn't think killing him was a good idea. I like to leave my options open," she clarified. Pain shot up her arm again.

"So I told him I wasn't gonna kill him and before he told me to get the hell away from him he wrote down a couple numbers and a name. Dean Winchester," she added, "Best hunter in the whole Midwest, so they say. Been to hell and back." _And I wish he'd stayed._

Sam chuckled. "Well, that last part's true. Did John tell you why Dean, and not another hunter?"

"John? That was his name?" Of course it was; normal names for normal-looking men.

"Yeah."

"Okay. No, he didn't, he just said I could trust him. He never mentioned you," she said, "Castiel neither. Though angels are kinda new, I guess."

"I was at college. Cas was in heaven. You never talked to him again?" _Why do you care?_

"He made it pretty clear, he didn't want to see me ever again." She reached over and turned the radio back on. "When You Were Young" blazed through the speakers, and Sam's reply was lost to the electric guitar. Maria let it drown out her building anger and the pain in her wrist.

* * *

><p>Her foster-mother called around the time Maria turned off the main road and towards Yellowstone. She turned the music down and Sam handed her the phone.<p>

"¿Sí, Laura?"

"Oye, María, ¿dijiste que irás al cumpleaños del hijo de Mateo?"

"Sí, pero me enfermé anoche, no puedo ir."

"Vale, a Mateo me diré. ¿Qué tienes?"

"Solo un fiebre, pero es como cien y dos grados y no puedo trabajar."

"Ojalá que sentías mejor. Oye, ¡Mateo!" Laura yelled at Maria's foster-brother, who was presumably nearby. Laura liked to yell.

"Pues, tengo cosas que hacer…" she trailed off; Laura didn't hear her, so Maria hung up and turned the phone off. She tossed it into the glove compartment.

After a moment, Sam asked, "Who was that?"

"Foster mom, she likes to keep in touch."

Mateo was her favorite foster-brother. He'd stuck around after turning eighteen, had already gone on one army tour and would cover for her when she woke up in the middle of the night and had to get out of Laura's nice, cozy, suffocating house. And he never pried.

Sam cleared his throat and asked, "How long were you with the Amazons?"

Men pried.

* * *

><p>They pulled into the Jack Creek Campground an hour later. It was the off season, and just as Maria predicted the area was empty and the visitor's center closed. Nobody would notice them.<p>

She parked in the farthest camping plot, the one that campers always used last. She and Sam sat there for a moment, listening to Everlast playing quietly from the speakers.

Dean tapped on Maria's window. "What are doing here? You said we were going to the nest."

She replied, "It's in the woods around here, maybe a half-day's hike west. This is the closest we can get. We'll move out tomorrow morning."

"We're sleeping here?"

"Yup."

"'Kay. Sam, you're gonna stay in here?"

Sam looked at Maria; she glanced back, an unspoken warning. "Y'know what, I think I'll sleep in the impala."

Maria could've sworn Dean looked disappointed. Too bad.

She swallowed a couple Advil and drifted off into sleep and more nightmares.

* * *

><p><strong>[Her foster-mother called around the time Maria turned off the main road and towards Yellowstone. Sam handed her the phone.<br>"Yes, Laura?"  
>"Hey, Maria, did you say you would go to Mateo's son's birthday party?"<br>"Yeah, but I got sick last night, I can't go."  
>"Okay, I'll tell Mateo. What do you have? "<br>"Just a fever, but it's like a hundred and two degrees and I can't work."  
>"I hope you better. Hey, Mateo! "Laura yelled at Maria's foster-brother, who was presumably nearby. Laura liked to yell.<br>"So, I have things to do..." she trailed off; Laura didn't hear her, so Maria hung up and turned the phone off.]**


End file.
